The Long Journey Home
by Shadowivy-Returns
Summary: Alright, this one has a plot. Faramirpippin with lots of other slash implied. Rated R for slash, sex, and rape
1. Default Chapter

The Journey Home

"I've never seen a hobbit such as you", Faramir whispered softly, cupping Pippin's chin gently in his hand as he gazed into his eyes. "Frodo", Pippin replied quietly, "you knew him."

"No, little friend, Frodo was Sam's alone."

"But I thought, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that, oh!" Pippin murmured miserably. "I'm so confused."

"It is almost time for me to leave", Faramir declared. "I have been most honored to meet you, Pippin of the Shire. Clasping the hobbit's hands together, he bent to kiss them. His lips were soft against Pippin's skin. Brushing a stray hair from Pippin's face he looked once more into his eyes before beginning to rise. "Don't go yet." Pippin said quietly. His small hands brushed Faramir's rough face as he brought his lips to his. His small tongue played quickly across the inside of his mouth before withdrawing.

Shocked, Faramir rocked back on his heels and quickly stood. Pippin saw his expression and said: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, you just looked, I didn't mean...sorry." he finished miserably, eyes downcast. "Pippin" Faramir said softly, "nothing you could do would make me think less of you.", his thumb traced to hollow of Pippin's neck.

Suddenly the captain started. "Footsteps" he whispered. He walked quickly to the window and stared out as Pippin looked at him dumbfounded. "As I was saying, halfling, you'll need your short sword sharpened for the ceremony today. The smithy is busy with the warriors, but I'll find you a whetstone for you to hone the blade yourself. You'll want to see to it immediat-"Faramir broke off speaking and turned around. "I thought I heard someone come in," He said. Pippin turned around as well. Across the room, standing behind him was a middle aged man in the livery of Gondor.

Pippin had not heard him enter. Still confused, the hobbit tried to keep his face impassive under the man's scrutiny. He wanted to ask Faramir about the sudden change in conversation but decided no to. The hobbit's judgment was not always the best but he knew well enough when to shut up. The man finally spoke, addressing Faramir. "Your father, the steward, wishes to see you, and the halfling as well."

As the man turned, apparently expecting them to follow him out, Faramir put a finger to his lips, beckoning Pippin to be silent. They walked across the massive stone courtyard. As they traveled to their audience with the steward, Pippin thought back on Faramir's words to him earlier that day.

"Do not seek to serve Gondor by going with my father, stay with Gandalf, he will care for you."

Pippin thought of Gandalf and his gentle caring touch, never harsh, always patient. Then the image of the Steward of Gondor flashed before him. The hobbit thought upon his cold visage and shuddered. Then Faramir sprang unbidden to mind, his lips against his, his warm eyes. He had not drawn away from the hobbit's kiss. Too late. He served his father now, and Faramir thought of the hobbit only as a friend.

Faramir stood to the side of the hall while Pippin recited the oath of fealty to Denethor. He could barely contain his rage as his father presented his ring to Pippin to kiss. He did not have to do that! His father looked straight at Faramir as Pippin kneeled before him. He leered at his son. The horrible realization came to mind as his father looked at him. The last part had been for his benefit! His father thought he cared for Pippin. Perhaps he did. He couldn't now; if his father thought he cared for Pippin he would ill-use him to hurt his son.

It was over. He still stared at his father's ring from across the hall. As if in a daze he heard words directed at him from a distance. He was being sent to his death. He did not care. He had begun to care about Pippin, and now he was gone forever. He finally asked his father the question he already knew the answer to. "Do you now wish that our places had been exchanged? That I had died and Boromir had lived?" "Yes", he answered coldly. It was said. There was no reason for him to stay and live.

Later, as he gazed as the faces of his men, men he had fought and laughed with and was now sending to their deaths along with him, he could have wept. Instead he merely said, "We ride." Fear flickered momentarily on their faces, then cool resolve. They would follow him through the gates of the underworld if he asked, and so they did. They rode for their captain; they rode for the glory of Gondor, and for the lives of their people. They rode knowingly to their doom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: graphic imagery, fic rated R for a reason**

2

Meanwhile the steward feasted alone in the great hall, Pippin standing silently at his side. He watched him eat in disgust. How could he after sending out his son to face impossible odds and a sure death? Unnerved by the hobbit's silence, Denethor queried, "Can you sing?"

"Yes, well, well enough among my own people, but we have no songs for great halls."

"What else can you do?" the steward asked, his voice thick. Pippin suddenly realized that were alone. Frightened and hoping he had misunderstood his meaning, he asked timidly, "milord?" With strength the hobbit never suspected the old man possessed, he pulled Pippin to him. Pippin could feel his warm breath on his face. "You swore to serve me"

Horrified Pippin replied, "In battle, milord!"

"But, I do not ask you to serve me in battle. I wish you like this." Binding Pippin's hands behind his back with his belt, Denethor said mockingly, "will you be quiet or will you require a gag was well?" He held Pippin so that he was behind him, and he gazed at the hobbit in front of him.

"Dressed, this won't do at all", the steward whispered softly. Pippin said nothing as rough hands tore at his clothing; a single tear ran down his cheek.

Faramir gritted his teeth in pain as an arrow pierced his side. Bright red blood flowed freely from the wound and pain blossomed in ever increasing waves through him. Sword still raised high, he screamed the war cry of Gondor. He hardly felt the second arrow hit. He saw his father's leering face, Pippin's eyes as blank and jaded. All the bright hope and innocence stripped from them. He smiled as the third arrow fell, his fearful visions fading as the world turned black.

Pippin stood head bowed before the steward.

"I'm not that fond of boys, you know." he said. Shocked Pippin looked up.

"When then?' he said in a chocked voice.

"You don't know?" the Denethor. "To hurt him, to hurt Faramir. He had done nothing but eye you since you arrived. He fancies boys. He'll never admit it but I can see it in his damned eyes. My son a sodomite! Oh you wouldn't know it but it there, I can see I know. He loves you little one, and I would take his heart and break it. You have given me the means to do it, Halfling. Even if he lives, when he finds out of this he will never forgive himself for leaving you here." Pippin knew this was true. Pain of the body is nothing to pain of the spirit.

The steward grasped his neck even more tightly from behind. Pippin did not even have time to tense as he entered him suddenly. Against his will he screamed out in blinding pain. He had been with men before, but never like this, never pain like this. He would not scream again. He would not give Denethor that satisfaction. He reveled in it, Pippin knew. He could not help crying out though as the steward thrust himself into him again and again, spending himself inside him. Finally it ended. Pippin wished he could die.

**Author notes: graphic and horrible I know! Poor Pippin!!! Sorry but it was necessary to the plot! Will update soon.**


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